


Purification

by doppeldonger



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Agender Chara, Agender Frisk, Gen, Mentions of Suicide, Other, Pre-Game(s), Reader Is Chara, flavor text chara, lots of headcanons, mentions of abuse, neutral Chara, pacifist run
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 02:17:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6885196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doppeldonger/pseuds/doppeldonger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being stuck with a pacifist host makes Chara rethink their view of life (and death) as they and Frisk delve into the past and the future together, meanwhile shaping the present.</p><p>What makes Chara so diabolical? And more importantly, can Frisk help them face their demons?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Nothingness

Determination is a funny thing.

It fills your very soul with the feeling that you can do anything you set your mind to. It gives you patience. It gives you strength. It helps you defy your mental and physical capabilities with ease.

Like when it gives you the power to stand up to your father as he brings your mother to her knees  with the remorseless strike of his hand or like when it makes you grit your teeth and hold on with a smile on your face as he turns his attention to you and beat you up until your ties to reality is cut loose thanks to prickly pain.

Determination is what makes you bottle up your red hot tears and icy fury when you watch with wide eyes as your father stabs your mother to death- you stopped counting after it reached double digits. Every ruthless _swish_ of the innocent kitchen knife feels like a stab at your very being.

After flinching for the twenty-sixth time and finally failing to bite back a sob, you manage to tear your eyes off of your mother’s mangled corpse- not because you snap out of shock and return to here and now, but because you heard your father’s animalistic snarl directed towards you.

You wake up in the hospital a week later, your small frame engulfed in sheets and unbearable pain. They have not a bit of pity in their eyes or voices when they explain to you that your mother was long gone when they brought both of you to the hospital. Neither do they show mercy when you beg them not to let your father take you back home. The bastard has a knowing smile contorting his ugly features. You whimper. You beg and beg and beg, tears making your bandages wet.

But nobody listens.

Determination is what helps you look into your father’s eyes without faltering when he tells you that, naturally, it was your fault that your mother was six feet under, nailed in a coffin like she deserves. The mention of nails reminds you of all the bleeding gashes on your mother’s body, taking life away from her one heartbeat at a time.

He tells you it’s now your job to take care of the house as the only woman around. You’re old enough anyway. You brought this upon yourself after all.

You wonder what method he would choose to kill you if you told him you are not ‘old enough’, and just eight years old. Or how much he’d make you hurt before actually letting you die if you told him you aren’t a female either. But you’re smart, so you keep your mouth shut. You have other plans in your mind anyway.

The night breeze slaps your face mercilessly. _Rotten!_ you think as you tuck your hair behind your ears, _They’re all rotten!_ The wind ruffles your hair yet again. You angrily tug at it to no avail, _Humanity is rotten down to the core!_

 _What about your mom?_ offers a tiny voice in your head; you ignore your conscience by reminding it that your mother, the only good and nice person you have ever known is dead and gone just because she was so caring and well-meaning.

Determination is what whispers to your soul to stick to your plan and go on, you are correct on your presumptions after all.

Mount Ebott is famous for swallowing down people who bear no hope in their hearts, welcoming them into its core not unlike a mother welcoming her child into her warm embrace. That’s what you’re thinking when you reach the top, the wind –even colder now- making your teeth chatter and your legs tremble.

Or is that fear?

No. You clench your jaw and furrow your brows. If it’s anything, it’s anger and hatred, not fear. You’ve lost your hope and compassion long ago; why be afraid when you’re nothing but an empty shell?

You look down at the hole whose edge you are standing at, it looks almost as deep and dark as your soul. A painful grimace graces your tear-clad face, soon turning into a big, fake smile as you nod determinedly. You take couple of steps back, make a run for it and brace yourself as you jump into the hole.

Determination is a funny thing.

Halfway through your journey downward, when your body finally adjusts to the feeling of free falling and you’ve stopped flailing your arms and legs, it whispers to your soul again. You look down, trying to see beyond the pitch-black darkness and decipher how long you have left until you are free from the pain; you’re having a hard time breathing considering how vicious the air is as it bites at your face while you fall down fast- very, very fast.

Determination is a little shit, you decide at the same moment you decide you are not so keen on dying anymore. But isn’t it a little too late for that? You let out a desperate howl, vision blurry due to tears adorning your eyes.

 _I don’t want to die!_ your mind screams. _I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die!_ After all, wouldn’t dying be giving those people what they wanted? They wanted to get rid of you.

You need to get back. You need to get back up there and show them what you’re capable of.

You ignore that little voice, the voice of reason and conscience, telling you you’re just an eight year old. You ignore the voice of self-hatred burning within you telling you you’re a worthless piece of shit who couldn’t even save their mother. You are filled with hope that if- no, **_when_** you go back, you will get revenge on everyone. You have made your decision.

_I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die! I won’t d-_

The ground welcomes you with ease as your small frame hits it with a sickening crunch.

Nailed in a coffin six feet under the ground doesn't seem like a bad idea now, does it?

 

* * *

 

Your body jolts to a start, a shuddering breath fills your lungs, helping your heart pump fresh blood all over your body. You make a strained noise and slowly raise your head, taking in your surroundings as you try to remember what happened. Apparently you were lying face-down on a bed of yellow flowers, you sneeze thanks to pollen hanging in the air, probably because the flower bed was disturbed when-

When you fell down.

You take a sharp breath and get on your hands and knees; you were supposed to be dead and now there is not a single scratch or throb on your body. Were you so scared of dying that you somehow manage to defy death?

No, probably not. You let out a bitter chuckle at the thought crossing your mind a moment later: You died and ended up in hell. Oh yes, that must be it. You feel dizzy and sick, you move to sit on your butt with an _oof!_ as your chuckles turn into a hopeless laugh, and finally into painful sobs. You bury your face in your trembling hands and cry your heart out.

As your sobs become agonized wails, you start pounding the ground with fists clenched so hard that your fingernails leave bloody crescents on your palms. The golden flowers become more and more smashed as a result of your fury, but you don’t care. You hate everything and everyone and-

“Hello?”

You freeze, turning your tear- and snot-covered face to the source of the timid voice, trying to see in the semi-darkness. Your fingers clench on the long-dead, poor flowers. Your eyes slowly adjusting to the dimness, you spot a few grand pillars in the distance- and a head poking from behind one of them. You’re too shocked to respond, all you can do is to watch with wide eyes as the figure slowly makes their way towards you; you hold on to the crushed flowers to remind yourself that there is a physical, real world existing around you, outside your fear-filled body.

You take in the figure when it’s close enough for your eyes to discern it- you’re not sure if your brain is able to process what is going on, however.

“I didn’t know the devil was just a kid,” you say with a trembling voice, finally wiping your face with a hand to see more clearly.

“Hey I’m not a kid!” exclaims the goat standing before your very eyes, puffing their chest proudly, they seem to be just as tall as you are; then again, from where you’re sitting, it’s a little hard to decide how tall they are. There’s a pause, “I mean… I guess you can say I am… But I’m not…” They play with one fluffy ear, expression frustrated as they huff, “I can’t believe you’ve came up with a pun the moment we met.” Despite your shock and fear, you can’t help but laugh at the goat-child’s response. They smile. You bow your head with embarrassment and worry, deciding to busy yourself with the crushed petals poking through your fingers. They take a hesitant step; seeing you don’t say anything –or look in their direction at all-, they plop down onto the flowers themself, far away from you to give you the space you need, but close enough to observe you with dark, curious eyes. They cross their legs and place their fluffy paws on them, you sniffle and poke at the ground.

“I’m not the devil, silly,” they say, poking out their tongue and smiling. Their smile falters when you raise your head to look at them, surprised that they sound so unfazed by this whole situation. “You’re a human, right?” they ask the next second, their voice lowered to a whisper as if you two are talking about the biggest secret in the whole universe. You frown and nod, unsure about what to say. They hum thoughtfully and tap a finger to their chin before scooting closer to you with a mischievous smile on their face. Then they throw their arms up in the air and shout, “That’s so cool! I didn’t know you humans could be so small!” You let out the breath you didn’t even know you were holding. Despite your nervousness, it is your turn to puff your chest and protest. “I’m not small!” you reply, gesturing at yourself, “And definitely bigger than you are!”

There’s a moment of silence where you look at each other with wide eyes and parted lips, then you burst into laughter at the exact same moment.

“What’s your name?” they ask, the curious glint filling their eyes once more. You look at their amused expression as you fold your hands on your lap, “Chara.”

“Chara, huh? That’s a nice name.” They smile at you genuinely, “My name is Asriel Dreemurr. I’m the king’s son.” He frowns at your confusion for a moment, “Golly, you don’t know what I’m talking about, don’t you?” You shake your head slowly, embarrassment filling your pale cheeks with bright red. “Oh, that’s fine!” he gets up and brushes his pants, then extends a hand to you, which you grab with little hesitation. “I’ll tell you on our way to where I live, then my mom can- oh careful!” He catches you as your legs give out, clearly weak from sitting for too long (and because of everything that’s happening to you right now, probably). He supports you as he wraps an arm around your waist and helps you throw an arm over his shoulders.

Monsters, from what you can see, are an interesting race.

Asriel tells you about monsterkind while his father, King Asgore with his huge hands and intimidating horns, makes all of you tea. He looked shocked when Asriel first introduced you to him, but welcomed you to their house and has been wearing that weird, sad smile ever since. The goat child explains how monsters are made of magic; as you sip your delicious tea and give Asgore a matching smile, all you can think of is that monsters must be made of love. You nod at Asriel and kindly thank Asgore, who meekly apologizes for his wife’s absence since she is busy with important work, being the queen.

“Tori is the brain behind our sovereignty after all.” he adds with a proud smile. The way it fills him with love when he mentions his wife’s name is such a foreign concept to you, you realize with a grimace; aren’t fathers supposed to be ruthless and intimidating?

The way he grabs his son when he jumps onto the king’s lap and the hearty chuckle he lets out as he nuzzles the smaller monster tells you otherwise. After having caused a giggling fit on Asriel’s side by tickling him mercilessly, Asgore lets his child off his lap and turns to you with a serious expression adorning his fluffy face. “How much do you know about the history of monsters and humans?” he asks, voice deeper than usual. You glance at your cup thoughtfully for a moment before looking back in the king’s eyes, “I don’t… I don’t know anything, sir.” Asgore sighs, though not because of your ignorance, “Please, child, I have told you this already; just call me Asgore.” He is well aware of your nervousness; he gives you a reassuring smile, “And that is fine, I shall tell you about it when Tori joins us, she should be here soon.” Not long after these words have left his lips, there’s the jingle of keys and the sound of the front door opening and closing. Asriel jumps down his chair and –despite his father’s warnings to be careful- runs to the door as fast as he can.

“Mom! You would not believe what happened today!” you can hear him say excitedly, “I made a friend!” The sound of a gentle laugh accompanies him as he moves back to the living room, “Is that so, my child?” The queen’s voice reminds you of your mom; the next moment, all you can see is blurry figures entering the room since you’ve started crying without even noticing.

“Oh my.” comes the queen’s response to seeing you sitting at the table with her husband, you sniffle and wipe your eyes with your sleeves, quite anxious due to her worried tone. You’re met with a frown sitting on her motherly face as she bats her eyelashes thoughtfully. She is so like your mother that you hope she’s not angry at you- you want to see her smile.

You remember the agonized expression on your mom’s face as she was seconds away from dying. A sob escapes you before you can even try to regain your composure, you are just a child after all. Suddenly you’re engulfed in a hug by none other than the queen, “Oh my child, do not cry…” she says softly as she rubs gentle circles on your back. You want to apologize, but your tiny frame is shaken by sobs too harsh for it to function properly.

She holds you in her arms until your tears dry, patiently offering you warmth and a soft touch. When you’re calm enough to look up at her, she smiles fondly at you, still holding you close to her chest. You give her a watery smile of your own.

You learn later on that there was a horrible war between humans and monsters, long before Asriel and you were born. Humans, being victorious, forced monsters to flee to the underground, seeking shelter and protection. Humans sealed monsters there afterwards, making their exile a lot more unbearable.

Humans are greedy, you decide. You hate them all the more.

You wonder if, being a human, you will end up like them one day.

You’re determined not to let that happen.

“But is there no solution to this?” you ask as you help the monster family make dinner and set the table. “Can’t you ever go out?” Asgore looks troubled. “That’s not fair!” you exclaim, slamming the plates down on the table harder than you were supposed to. You flinch and apologize with a stutter, remembering all the times your father beat you up for being much less rude than you are just now.

They say it’s okay, and their genuine tone makes you believe in them, so you go back to setting the table with Asriel. “There is… a solution.” Asgore replies after a few moments, getting a sharp “Gorey, no!” from Toriel. You look up at them from where you’ve been placing knives and forks as the king heaves a sigh that makes is whole frame shudder. He lets Toriel take care of the soup he has been cooking so that he can come and sit at the table, he gestures you and Asriel to sit as well. You can’t help but think how easy it was for them to accept you into their daily lives, so quickly, too.

“Do you know what a SOUL is?” is the first thing Asgore asks. You gesture at your chest, unsure. He smiles fondly, watching your small hand, “Quite so. The SOUL is the very culmination of your being, which is the case for monsters and humans alike. However monster SOULs and human SOULs work a little differently; for you see, human SOULs can linger around the body after the human has passed away, while monster SOULs disperse immediately.” You nod in understanding. Toriel brings the soup and starts serving it to everyone, a strained look on her face as she steals glances at her husband. The king smiles apologetically, but continues, “Thus, while dying means it is the end for a monster, it may be different for a human; as a monster can absorb a human’s SOUL before it disappears.” You stir your soup slowly, not quite seeing where Asgore is getting at. You take a spoonful of soup and let your taste buds revel in the tomato heaven. “The same method can be used for breaking the barrier,” the king adds gently, the spoon stops inches away from your mouth. “If a monster absorbs seven human SOULs, they can break the barrier.”

The silence prolongs as the three goats look at your shocked face; the spoon clutters onto the table. Your almost inaudible “Excuse me.” is muffled by the sound your chair makes as you push it back and stand up.

Despite your efforts, you can’t help but break into a sprint to get out of the Dreemurrs’ house.

 _So that’s why they’ve been so good to me?_ you think to yourself, feeling cold despite the warm and humid climate of the underground. You hug yourself, tighter and tighter, _They’re no different!_

You’re too distracted by your tears to notice Asriel coming to sit by you. “I’m sorry we scared you,” he mumbles, tugging at one of his ears. “Mom and dad don’t plan to wage war on your kind or anything.” he adds with a nervous chuckle. You turn to face him; anger suddenly bubbling within you, “You can destroy them for all I care!” you yell, startling the other, “But you lied to me!” You get up and start pacing around in fierce motions, “I thought you wanted to help me!” You throw your arms in the air, you can’t believe you were so stupid to believe them!

“Dishonesty and violence were what I tried to run away from, Asriel!” you want to stop talking, stop giving away your weaknesses, but you can’t. Not at this point.

To hell with it.

“I watched my father kill my mom!” you wail, tears turning Asriel’s hunched form into a blurry mess, “I had to let him use and abuse me! And you know why I fell down that hole?” You shoot an angry arm at the general direction of the lone flower bed, “Because I. wanted. to DIE!” You whimper and hug yourself, and Asriel lets out a noise that’s unmistakably a sob. “Apparently I was too scared to even do that, because –lo and behold!- I’m still here!” Your violent voice slowly turns into a whisper, “If you plan to kill me, at least don’t lie to me about it; I can take it, I-“ You’re cut off when Asriel hugs you as tight as he can, the damp fur on his face tickling your neck. You can’t help but return the gesture as you cry into each other’s embrace.

“Oh child…” Toriel’s soft voice calls, full of guilt, “We never, ever planned to commit such a vile act…” You break away from the hug to throw an accusing look at the queen as she kneels before you and her son. “The war caused the humans to take down so many monsters, and we were no less violent than they were. We do not wish to relive all that, not again. Even if it means not being able to see the sky or the sun again, or let our children grow up without knowing what they even look like to  begin with, we will not take your life.”

Something in her voice tells you to believe her, so you do.

They call you their hope. Their savior. Such positive adjectives for such a depressed, annoying child like you. As much as you want to believe their words, deep down you know that you are what’s standing in the way of their hopes and dreams.

They call you and Asriel “the royal children”, you’re Chara Dreemurr now, your actual surname long forgotten. But what good are you to your people if you can’t do anything to help them? Asriel will be the king one day, but what will you be? You will still belong to the very race you hate, helping them make monsters suffer with each and every passing day.

 

* * *

 

Determination is a funny thing. It fills you with inspiration at the weirdest and most irrelevant moments.

Like back when you accidentally poisoned dad. You can’t believe you misread the recipe, despite being well-versed in monster writing by now.

As mom helped get dad get better with the help of Doctor Gaster, you held Asriel’s hand, not shedding a tear unlike him. The very idea that struck fear in your soul so long ago made you determined now.

You told Asriel to stop being a crybaby, and he looked incredulous. You smiled reassuringly and told him you had a plan.

Remembering back when you jumped down the hole and survived, you were sure killing yourself on purpose was out of the question; you always felt weird whenever you held a knife anyway, it brought back all the bad memories. It was inevitable that dad’s getting poisoned would make you read about the golden flowers, the first thing you saw when you woke up after your fall. If a plant so poisonous could make the strong, giant king sick when taken in small doses, it would definitely kill you easily, yet so innocently.

“I… I don’t like this idea, Chara.”

You huff.

“Wh… what?” You point at his wet face, calling him a crybaby for the second time in your friendship. He tugs at his eyes, “N-no, I’m not…”

“Azzy…”

“…Big kids don’t cry.”

“There’s nothing wrong with crying, Azzy, but you know there’s no need to cry about **_this_**.”

“Yeah, you’re right…” He sounds so unsure, it makes you give him a bitter smile.

You tried so many times to convince him that this was for the best. He tried so many times to ignore you.

“We talked about this Azzy, it’s for the good of everyone.”

“I just… I don’t know, Chara. Our future or your hatred for humans shouldn’t be more important than yourself!”

“Are you really questioning my motives here?” Your own nervousness makes you snap at him.

Eventually he gave in, though.

“No! I’d… I’d never doubt you Chara…” he replies quickly, “Never!”

“You promise?” you ask, extending a pinky with a grin, which he encircles with his own soon after. “Y… yeah!” he smiles at you, “We’ll be strong!”

“Yes!” you encourage him, “We’ll free everyone.” He lets go of your finger, rocking back and forth on his feet for a moment. He takes a deep breath, looks into your eyes and nods once, “I’ll go get the flowers.”

Determination is a funny thing- no, scratch that.

Determination is a pain in the ass.

It makes you go on as your insides feel like glass shards are going through them, as fever burns you, as you throw up anything you manage to eat, along with blood.

It helps you smile at Asriel, who never leaves your side; who feeds you more and more buttercups with tears in his eyes. You’ve never seen him this sad before. The pained looks Toriel and Asgore give you don’t help either.

You’re too lost in hallucinations and pain to realize you’re fading away and thus, this time you don’t look back into your soul to call to your determination. For a short while, Asgore, who had been whispering to you to stay determined, breaks into sobs. For a short while, everything goes black.

Then you are awakened by a force that fills your entire being, it is **_so_** exhilarating. Before mom and dad can do anything, you and Asriel become one; your minds and souls mingling so perfectly, you make your way to the barrier together.

All the king and the queen can do is to wail after you as you pass through the barrier with a shiver washing over Asriel’s transformed body.

You’ve told Asriel about the town you used to live in and how mean its inhabitants were, he seemed to share your hate and distrust. Naturally you two decided to steal six SOULs from that particular town; yours being the seventh, it would be easy to break the barrier and set monsterkind free. It had taken a long time to convince Asriel that he could use your SOUL as well, you’d be long dead anyway.

Turns out, that wasn’t exactly the case.

The townspeople’s reaction when they see your corpse being carried by a huge, intimidating goat monster is, needless to say, ruthless. As ruthless as you two will be towards them in a few moments. But when humans surround you with various weapons in their hands, you can feel Asriel hesitate.

 _Come on, Azzy…_ you whisper into your shared mind, _we can do it, we can wipe this town clean by killing them all!_ Asriel’s power is making you thrilled, you can feel it. Your determination, however, is making him falter.

 _You promised…_ he replies, _we’d take six SOULs and leave!_ A shot is heard, and Asriel’s body shudders. You both can feel blood trickling down a bullet wound freshly found its way into Asriel’s abdomen.

_Asriel, move!_

_No! This wasn’t our plan, Chara! You promised!_

**You** _promised, you idiot! Move! Do something! They’re going to kill you!_

No matter what you do, you can’t wrench the control of his body from him; all you can do is to watch helplessly as humans deal one deathly blow after another, as he runs back to underground, as he sputters blood all over the golden flowers. You watch as your parents desperately try to help him and as he turns into dust right beneath their hands.

You can’t believe he lied to you.

Everything goes dark. You guess that’s what death is, the absolute, the nothingness. Everything is pointless at this point and you don’t care at all.


	2. Zones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stay determined!

Determination is a beautiful thing. It gives you hope, love and compassion.

Wait.

…That’s a thought so unlike you.

You awake to see a figure lying face-down on a bed of golden flowers- how come can you watch yourself anyway? Oh wait. That’s not you, is it? Similar striped shirt and haircut, but definitely not the same attitude.

The child raises their head, the gesture so similar to yours back when you fell down on the very same golden flowers they now sit upon, yet their eyes bear no shock or fear; they remind you of…

“Hello?”

You turn to find them observing you with curious eyes, they wave at you with a smile tugging at their lips. You frown and cross your arms, but they seem to ignore your sour attitude, “I’m Frisk! What’s your name?”

You look at them, suspicion adorning your features. They look too chubby. They are too energetic. They smile with ease. Why do they sound so happy?

You hate them already.

“Chara.” you nearly grunt. “Nice to meet you, Chara!” they chirp and extend a hand like any well-mannered kid would do. You hate them all the more, yet you can’t help but extend your hand to shake theirs.

…Your hand phases right through theirs.

“That was… unexpected.” you say, your frown getting deeper; their mouth has shaped into an ‘o’ to indicate they’re just as surprised as you are. You can feel your heart pounding in your ears- wait. That’s not **_your_** heart.

“Holy shit!” you exclaim, throwing your arms in the air. Frisk looks startled for a moment, “What happened, Chara?” You now place your hands on your hips and look at them accusingly.

“It seems your power, your… determination awakened me from death.” you reply, eyes scanning their face, “And I’m connected to your SOUL for some reason.”

“My SOUL?” they seem confused.

You open your mouth to explain, but get interrupted by the most annoying voice you’ve ever heard in your life- and death, “Howdy!” You both turn to see a golden flower looking up at Frisk. Why does it irk you so much? Ugh. You can’t really tell why. Your tangible companion looks thrilled as the flower introduces himself as Flowey, though.

Moments later, Frisk is pulled into a FIGHT they don’t realize they’re in, with Flowey explaining them ‘the basics’.

“See that heart? That is your SOUL, the very culmination of your being!” he’s saying, but you’re too annoyed to pay him any attention. He stole your spotlight! However, you’re taken back to here and now when you hear the weed talking about LOVE, you tense as he tells Frisk he can share some LOVE with them.

“That’s not what you think!” you warn the human, as Flowey lets out some ‘friendliness pellets’, “Dodge them!” To your surprise, Frisk complies.

“Hey buddy,” Flowey calls out with a strained smile on his face –why would a flower even have a face to begin with?-, “You missed them.” He ruffles his petals like a distressed peacock, “Let’s try again, okay?”

“Dodge them!” you warn Frisk once more, and they comply again.

Needless to say, Flowey looks unamused, “Is this a joke? Are you braindead?” he jeers, “RUN. INTO. THE. BULLETS!!!” There’s a silence as Flowey seems to think he surely could have worded that sentence better. “Uh I mean… The friendliness pellets!” The bastard is even bold enough to look innocent as he graces Frisk with a fake smile.

“Fight him!” you yell, “Hit him, kill him!” Frisk turns to you for a brief moment to shake their head with an amused expression on their face, and goes on to avoid Flowey’s ‘friendliness pellets’. As Flowey lets out an exasperated “DIE.”, you’re not sure who’s angrier, you or the weed.

A fireball hits Flowey square in the face and you let out a victorious “Ha!” before pausing; you know that type of magic, and you wish you hadn’t.

As Toriel saves Frisk, you let out a weak “Mom…” that causes Frisk to throw a questioning look at you, but they let it pass for the moment. You zone out and don’t interact with your host from then on, not until you notice them standing in front of a mirror. The sight of your own house makes you all the more grumpy, “It’s you!” you snap, “Now can you stop gawking at your reflection and move?”

“That’s right!” Frisk confirms, “It’s me, Chara!” They turn to look at you, “I wish you could see yourself, too!” You sigh and roll your eyes.

You’re reminded of your initial thought about monsters when Toriel challenges Frisk: they can’t be trusted, they’re no different than humans.

“Kill her!” you scream at the human child, sounding thirsty for her dust, “Kill her or she’s going to kill you!” There is that look on their face again.

As you watch Toriel hug a slightly burnt yet clearly content Frisk, you can’t help but spit out, “Pfft, what a pacifist.” You hate people who can’t fight, you hate how they show mercy with ease.

_Oh Asriel, things could have been so different… And now look at us, you’re dead and in peace while I’m stuck with this goody two shoes kid forever…_

You’re not sure how to feel about this Sans skeleton. There’s something about him that ‘tickles your funny bone’ as he’d put it, but then again, something about him makes your skin crawl. You decide you hate his idiot brother and his loud shenanigans all the more as he yaps about being the greatest person of all.

You’re pretty sure this is indeed hell by the time Frisk is done with petting each and every dog around and is past Papyrus’s stupid puzzles. You groan at the fact that they’re as good at dodging your urges to kill the monsters as they are at dodging the said monsters’ attacks.

Your disappointment at the fact that Frisk not only refused to decapitate Papyrus, but actually decided to go on a date –a date!- with him turns into amusement as you notice the spaghetti-loving skeleton genuinely means well.

What an idiot. You have to agree with Flowey on one thing: It’s kill or be killed in this world.

Undyne seems to be sharing your compassion about that, and Frisk seems to be successfully avoiding jeers coming from both of you. You can’t believe they choose to run away while they could kill the fish warrior.

“Nonononono don’t give her water! Are you crazy?! Let her fry… or get steamed or whatever! Frisk! Stop!”

The nervous Doctor Alphys makes you want to bash her head with something, you can’t believe she was watching Frisk all this time! Your human companion only seems amused by her, though. Mettaton is a whole another deal, you decide with a grimace as he rolls into the scene to stand along with the doctor. While Frisk answers his questions correctly thanks to Alphys giving away answers in a surprisingly smooth fashion and screams “Heck yeah!” when he asks them if they would smooch a ghost, you’re facepalming for the tenth time.

Considering she herself set up the lasers and pretty much everything else in Hotland, Alphys seems awfully unable to help Frisk out with the traps scattered around. She does seem quite eager to share status updates every so often though, which you and Frisk can see thanks to the brand new phone she gave them. Your companion is having the time of their life, that’s certain.

Somehow, Frisk manages to end up in a cookshow hosted by none other than Mettaton himself; everything seems to go well on the human’s side as well- that is, until the square robot takes out a chainsaw. You start jeering and telling Frisk to FIGHT him, but Alphys is quick to respond by telling Mettaton not to use a human as some monsters might be-

“Vegan? Are you serious???” you scream in disbelief.

Apparently Alphys has more in store to surprise you.

“A jetpack??? Really?!” But Frisk is long gone, making their way to the top of the counter determinedly.

The fact that Mettaton didn’t even need that can makes you grind your teeth in frustration; you practically beg Frisk to squash this ugly tin square of a robot, but they let him leave- to your disappointment. You desperately try to zone out as they make their way around Hotland, sparing and making friends with each and every monster around, but that doesn’t last long as Frisk confronts Mettaton once again (“Does he ever give up?!”). Grumbling in frustration at the fact that you cannot possibly make Frisk deal a blow, even once, you help them dodge his attacks and find their way around.

They thank you heartily and apologize that they can’t hug you with a blush on their tan cheeks. “As if I’d want to hug you!” you retort in mock disgust, but you can see them smile in an amused manner out of the corner of your eyes. You huff, burying your own amusement deep within your SOUL.

Confronting Muffet is a creepy experience, you both agree on; not that either of you has a fear of spiders (on the contrary, Frisk seems to be thrilled to have so many ‘adorable spiders’ around), but that pet of hers has really sharp teeth, truth be told.

After surviving Muffet and her spiders, and getting past Mettaton yet again (“You really have a nice singing voice!” Frisk exclaims, to which Mettaton replies with a knowing “Of course, darling!” You groan, ugh. That guy’s personality is as pointy as his physique.), Frisk seems relieved to grab something to eat with Sans.

The two of you are amused by the fact that Sans and Toriel have been “bad joke buddies” for a long while, Frisk giggles as the skeleton pops one joke after another. The next moment, however, you feel like the restaurant got significantly colder; your host seems to have noticed that too, as they’re rubbing their arms in a steady motion.

“that promise i made to her… you know what would have happened if she hadn’t said anything?” Sans is asking Frisk, “buddy. . . Y o u ‘ d  b e  d e a d  w h e r e  y o u  s t a n d.”

You can feel sins you haven’t committed crawling on your back.

Frisk seems to be trembling slightly, which replaces the ice-cold fear with blazing-hot anger within you, “You’re an asshole, you freaking comedian!” you yell at him, despite you’re well aware that he cannot hear or see you. His pin prick eyes seem to linger on you for a brief moment though. You and Frisk shudder simultaneously.

You’re not so sure when he tells your human partner he’s simply joking. You’re just glad he leaves soon after your little chat.

The final fight between Frisk and Mettaton brings out the diva in both of them, quite literally. “Nice legs,” you comment on the robot’s humanoid form, “Got them from the garbage dump?” Frisk giggles and with renewed determination, boasts that they aren’t going to get hit all.

You’re both relieved and sad when Mettaton’s batteries die out, “Awww, that was fun!” Frisk says, petting the robot’s shoulder sympathetically. You’re just happy to get rid of one more annoying monster around, especially Mettaton.

Frisk ends up visiting Undyne against all your protests and manages to become ‘besties’ with her as well. You’d be slapping them if you had a corporeal form; you can understand why Napstablook seems so upset all the time. You can’t deny you have a pleased spark in your SOUL as your human companion watches Undyne’s house burn down with a grimace, though. The Captain seems as unfazed by the whole situation as you are, though for completely different reasons.

Visiting New Home has a worse effect on you than you expected, you must admit. Frisk looks at you sadly as they pace the corridors, by now learned not to bother you when you’re in such a bad mood.

The heart shaped locket is like a blow to your mind and SOUL. You let out a sob as Frisk holds it to the light and reads, “Best friends forever.” They glance at you, unsure, “Do you want me to take it with me?” You nod, you’d definitely be crying if you had a body capable of doing so. Teasing yourself not to be a crybaby doesn’t help at this point, either.

Your host takes a look in the mirror in the corridor as you watch them with a heavy heart, “Despite everything…” you whisper, “It’s still you.” They smile and turn to you, “And you, Chara!” Their attitude reminds you so much of Asriel, they are definitely braver than you and he combined, however.

Frisk encounters many passive monsters as they explore New Home, who happen to tell the story of the royal siblings- of you and Asriel. You feel like turning yourself into a tiny ball and disappear, but as you can’t do that, you just hug yourself and sob not-so-silently.

There are parts that are left out, you know that very well. Asgore was never such an intimidating person as these monsters tell Frisk, you know that too.

You can’t help but shudder as Sans judges your human partner’s actions; you wonder what would happen if they listened to you and killed all the monsters they encountered. With a quick glance thrown in your general direction, he lets you go; you’re almost glad they didn’t listen to your urges.

Your breath hitches when Frisk faces Asgore. You can’t believe how much you missed him, you also can’t believe how easily he invites Frisk to FIGHT him.

And you can’t believe how your dad is likening killing Frisk to a visit to the dentist. Doubt fills your SOUL once again, but you stay determined.

Throughout the FIGHT with Asgore, both you and Frisk learn that not everything is about mercy, just like not everything is about violence. By the time he is on his knees, you and your companion are both sobbing slightly. Despite your doubts, you decide to spare Asgore; Frisk seems thrilled by your choice as they smile at you and the king.

Nothing could prepare any of you for what came next, though.

Determination is an… interesting thing.

It helps Frisk regain their composure with ease after witnessing Flowey’s brutal murder of Asgore, it helps them hold your own murderous intentions back like a champ, and it helps them stay strong as Flowey destroys the world around you… somehow.

Are you dead? For real? You’re not sure, everything seems dark. Everything seems… empty.

Then you notice Frisk, who’s blindly groping around in the darkness. “Over here!” you shout, and together you try to find your way in the nothingness.

What you find is Flowey, yet again. Your companion takes a deep breath as you growl, the weed seems even more intimidating than before.

“Boy! I’ve been feeling empty for so long…” he’s telling Frisk with that empty smile of his, “It feels great to have a SOUL inside me again!” His smile turns sly, “Mmm…” he says in a sing-song voice, “I can feel them wriggling!” And you can honestly feel yourself getting sick.

A lot of things happen in a short span of time: the weed’s telling Frisk he needs their soul as he currently has only six, the human takes a step towards Flowey with determination written across their features, Flowey is jeering and calling Frisk an idiot, and then…

“What… is that.” you say, the breath you don’t really need hitching. Frisk seems to be having troubles remembering how to breathe as well; after all, there are vines everywhere you look.

You’re not sure what you’re seeing before you, Frisk looks helplessly at you for a moment as you assess the situation; you remember all the times you told Frisk about their enemies’ stats with ease, hoping they would FIGHT them.

You gulp down your fear, quite audibly so. “Omega Flowey. Attack and defense… Infinite. Someone get a weed killer, am I right?” You chuckle nervously, “And an electrician while they’re at it.” Frisk glances at you with a pained expression, then turns their attention to Flowey’s face that is currently displayed on a huge screen sitting atop his leafy arm-like appendages. There are too many eyes, watching your companion’s each and every move with a sharp glances; there are pipes feeding who-knows-what into Flowey’s huge frame. He blinks his bloodshot eyes at you, and the FIGHT begins.

“Avoid the pellets! There, on your right!” you try to help, “Behind you!” Frisk successfully dodges Flowey’s attack, “FIGHT!” you scream, seeing a brief moment of pause in Flowey’s attacks. Your companion pauses for even a shorter moment before listening to your advice, you are both well aware that things have changed between you two after your confrontation with Asgore. Your host jumps forward and strikes one of Flowey’s many jaws with the worn dagger you forced them to pocket along with the locket (“Perfect for cutting plants and vines.” you grin as Frisk equips it); sharp teeth chomp at you two, but Frisk manages to avoid them with little damage. You cheer them, throwing in a jeer or two directed at the weed.

They hold on. They refuse to die. They call to the determination resting deep within their SOUL, they call to you. “You can do it!” you cheer on, “You can beat this asshole!” Despite all the tears, bloody gashes and bruises on their body, Frisk stands their ground.

There’s the sudden sound of sirens coming from nowhere in particular as you two look up at the flashing screen Flowey uses to grin maniacally down at you.

“’Warning’?” Frisk reads, glancing at the figure of a cyan heart right under the writing. You both saw the SOULs Asgore preserved for years in hopes to absorb them, you both watched Flowey gulp them down with no remorse; you know this cyan heart that beats without a care in the world is one of those very SOULs.

“Is he making them fight us too?!” you shout with disbelief; human SOULs are powerful, this will cause a huge problem. The SOUL itself doesn’t seem to fight them, however, it simply floats there as Frisk avoids the knives Flowey is throwing at them –where did he find so many knives anyway?-. “Call for help!” you suddenly say, your host turns to look at you as if you suddenly became tangible; your cheeks would be burning with embarrassment if you were alive, probably. “You heard me right!” you continue, “Your determination made me help you, why not make them help as well?”

With a smile, Frisk complies. Nothing happens- that is, nothing that catches the eye; but there is an action.

“The SOUL gave you hope to continue, your HP is fully restored!” you tell Frisk as you observe their stats, you grin at each other victoriously. The moment of happiness does not last long, however, as you are faced with Flowey yet again; he seems to get more and more vicious with every attack Frisk dodges and every blow they deal.

The other SOULs come to help, too- orange, blue, purple, green, and yellow; you can feel your and Frisk’s determination grow stronger and stronger with every passing moment despite Flowey’s merciless attacks, you smile at each other. You can feel the other SOULs’ determination beating along with yours as Frisk’s stats are fully restored once again.

“Flowey’s defense dropped to 0!” you announce triumphantly, “Go, Frisk! FIGHT!”

With a painful wail, Flowey is brought down to his metaphorical knees by Frisk, “This CAN’T be happening!” he screams, “You… YOU!” A pause. His annoyed expression turns into a knowing grin, “You’re an IDIOT!”

For a moment, all you can see is Flowey’s jaws snapping at Frisk, shooting lasers at them; you realize, with a gasp, that you don’t want them to die. You’re not so sure if their determination would bring them back from death, you’re not even so sure as to how determination really works. You worry your lip and tell Frisk to hold on, you want to hope that they will live, but the attacks are so powerful that you start to feel less and less confident. “Please…” you whisper as Flowey lets out a manic chuckle-

But it refused.

There, within the ring of pellets, stands Frisk, battered but very much alive. They grin as you give them a thumbs up, ignoring Flowey’s jeers about calling for help; then they look up at him and, as if to mock him, call for help. There’s a pause as Frisk’s content expression dares to falter, then the weed laughs, “But nobody came!” he announces giddily.

The next moment, however, brings a revelation along with it. “Where are my powers?!” Flowey’s screaming desperately, you and Frisk know the answer within your combined SOULs before seeing it: the six SOULs are encircling the troubling weed.

With one last blow to his huge figure, and with one last wail of “You’re supposed to obey me!”, Flowey falls. When the dust settles, you and your companion can see the battered figure of the weed a few steps ahead, seemingly bowing his head in shame. Frisk limps towards him and, to your surprise, offers him a helping hand.

He is no less shocked than you are, to be quite honest. “Sparing me won’t change anything,” he responds, his voice but a whisper and so unlike the booming chuckles he let out mere moments ago, “Killing me is the only way to end this.” You kind of have to agree with him at this point and you hate it. Frisk seems determined to spare him, though, to your surprise. His threats fall on deaf ears as Frisk spares him mercilessly –you have to suppress a chuckle despite the unnerving situation.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” the weed finally utters, to which Frisk simply gives a patient smile. “You really think there’s good in everyone, don’t you?” you ask your host, your voice not higher than Flowey’s. “I just can’t… understand…” he mirrors your thoughts. And with that, he burrows his body under the ground and disappears.

“Flowey ran away.” you state monotonously.

Well.

Back to the nothingness, you guess.

You turn to look at Frisk, who gives you one of their bright smiles. They wave, “Hello!”

You snort and put your hands behind your back as you stand in the nothingness, facing each other, “Greetings.” you reply, returning their smile. There’s a pause where you sigh thoughtfully. “So what do you want to do now?” They purse their lips and think, “Honestly? I want to find Flowey.”

You facepalm and Frisk giggles in return.

“I have no choice, do I?”

You find him at the edge of the very darkness, if there is such a thing. Instead of snapping at Frisk or trying to kill them yet again, he turns to look at them with a thoughtful expression. “Why did you let me leave?” he asks, your companion simply shrugs, “It seemed you needed some space.” He lets out a sigh as if the human child has just said the stupidest thing in the world, you think that’s pretty much the case. “Don’t you realize that being nice just makes you get hurt?” he asks slowly, as if to make sure Frisk understands each and every word he utters. Frisk smiles as they shake their head, “If that were the case, I wouldn’t have made so many friends… friends like you!”

You look at them with wide eyes, is it possible to get a concussion when you fight an evil flower in empty space? Yeah, it probably is. Flowey ignores Frisk’s remark about their relationship and goes on, “Oh yes, your friends… You’ll probably never see them again. Hurts, doesn’t it?”

You’re pretty sure Flowey is as frustrated with Frisk’s positive attitude as you are at this point; “I’m sure we can find a way!” He rolls his eyes and gives them a strained smile. “If you had just gone through without caring about anyone, you wouldn’t have to feel bad now.” Your companion looks surprised rather than taken aback: “But that would mean not having any friends, Flowey! I wouldn’t like that, not at all. This is the way it should be!”

“So then… I don’t get it…” the weed responds thoughtfully, ruffling his petals restlessly, “If you really did everything the right way, why did things still end up like this?”

“By ‘like this’, he means us getting stuck in here, I believe.” you add helpfully. Frisk looks as amused as ever.

“This is the way things are supposed to be! We just need to find a way to proceed.” Their determination, despite the negativity of the situation, nearly brings a nonexistent tear to your eyes. Flowey hums thoughtfully.

“Say… What if I told you… I knew some way to get back… to better consequences as well.” You and Frisk look at each other with confused expressions, you can change the past and the future? Apparently you both zoned out for a moment, since Flowey is saying something, “Well… in the meantime, why don’t you go see Doctor Alphys?” You quirk an eyebrow. “It seems like you could have been better friends.”

“It seems like there’s something awfully off about you, asshole.” is your response. Frisk ignores you like a champ. And with a nervous “See you soon.”, Flowey is nowhere to be found.

You open your eyes to see that you’re standing at the door to the throne room along with Frisk. They seem as startled as you are, but they’re determined to explore. “Let’s go!” they say excitedly before sprinting into a run.

Knocking on Alphys’s lab door turns out to be a fruitless labor as she gives no response. You look around angrily with hands on your hips, “The weed fooled us, didn’t he?!” Frisk huffs and pulls their bangs aside to give you a look that says “Sheesh, just calm down, Chara.” Before you can retort, however, Frisk’s phone rings.

After two minutes of talking back and forth on the phone, Frisk hangs up with a giggle and explains what’s going on to you (bless their SOUL); apparently Undyne needs something, so you need to head back to Snowdin. You shrug, having to accept whatever Frisk decides to do anyway, thus you start your journey back to the cold town with warm-hearted inhabitants.

“If she needs a letter delivered to Doctor Alphys, why doesn’t she do it herself?!” you ask Frisk exasperatedly, who knows very well that this will be your excuse to make Alphys answer you.

You can’t believe Undyne forced Frisk to deliver a love letter to Alphys.

You can’t believe Alphys thought Frisk wrote the letter to her.

You can’t also believe Frisk is hanging out at the garbage dump at the moment, watching Alphys confess to Undyne. Your companion seems thrilled by the occasion while all you can to is to groan at how… icky they are! Ugh!

The journey through the True Lab makes both of you wish you could get back to those icky moments, though; helping Alphys face her inner demons is nothing like you have experienced so far.

Determination is a blessing.

Despite the cold, dark atmosphere of the lab, you and Frisk manage to muster up enough courage to move along- not that you could turn back at this point, since the elevator that brought you here broke down a long time ago. Instead, you read to Frisk what the screens hung across the walls say, since they’re not well-versed in monster writing. Learning about the nature of the SOUL and determination is a thrilling experience, to say the least.

“Pot… pop… pota-popato chips?!”

“Popato chisps.”

You look at Frisk’s amused face and grumble, being a ghost possessing a sassy child makes you no less dyslexic, you note sadly.

You both flinch when you see the monster(s?) sticking out of the faucet, Frisk lets out a tiny yelp of surprise as you say, “They draw near!” You look at your companion apologetically, “I’m sorry Frisk, but I have no idea what they are.”

“No stats for me, then?” They sound sad. “No data available.” you reply mockingly as they make a dial-up sound.

That seems to spark a thought in Frisk’s mind, they quickly bring out their cellphone as they dodge the monsters’ attack. “Found a new partner in crime?” you mock as the phone successfully translates the monsters’ gibberish into your language.

Well. You’re not so sure if you want to “join the fun”, neither is Frisk.

One sparing spree later, Frisk leaves the creepy room with a key in hand. The haunted lab seems to be full of shocking entries and keys of different colors, you two come to realize.

You discover a room filled with books and VHS tapes; the moment Frisk puts one into the player and turns on the older-than-the-universe-itself-TV, you can easily tell it was a bad decision.

“Do your creepy face, Chara!” A choked sob escapes you.

Frisk is well-mannered enough not to ask you any questions while they can clearly see you’re distressed. You appreciate it.

After sparing Reaper Bird and starting to place the keys in the proper slots to turn on the switches, Frisk hums thoughtfully.

“Do you think… maybe…”

“What?” you say, sounding harsher than you meant it. Your companion doesn’t seem to mind, considering how sour your mood has been lately.

“I feel like Flowey might be one of Doctor Alphys’s failed experiments.” they finish, stealing a glance to check you. You grunt in affirmative, “I feel the same way, too. There’s something about him that I can’t put my finger on.”

Your hour-long argument as to whether Flowey is worth saving now that both of you are quite sure his general stance in his existence is due to Alphys’s experiments is interrupted when Frisk gets cornered by a bunch of amalgamates. Luckily, the very doctor herself is there to save you; as Frisk thanks her, albeit coldly, you’re busy throwing unheard jeers at her.

After her heartfelt apology, and the decision to face her demons for the sake of herself and others, Frisk and you (though not as readily as they) are ready to give her another chance- that is, until you leave the room to discover a couple of screens you both missed.

“Conducting determination experiments on a golden flower from the outside world, huh?” Frisk chuckles bitterly, so unlike their upbeat attitude.

“I hate these people.” is all you say.

You’re back in New Home, both of you quieter than usual.

“Do you think Flowey sent us back in time so that we can learn about his side of the story?” Frisk asks, unsure. “How is that even possible?” you respond, though being a ghost accompanying a human child, you are in no place to question the possibility of incredible things happening. Frisk’s answer to your question is just a barely-there shrug.

You meet the king next to the barrier just the same, he introduces Frisk to the barrier just like he did the last time. Very unlike the last time, however, the battle ends even before it begins.

“Mom!” you exclaim excitedly, never in your existence would you think you’d be happy to see your mom chase away your dad with the help of her magic. Frisk suppresses a giggle. It seems all of Frisk’s friends are here, just within the time span of two minutes. You can feel the giddiness filling your companion’s soul.

The moment’s peace and happiness come to an abrupt stop as Papyrus announces how a flower told him about this meeting. Your blood would run cold if you had a body; that, you are sure about. The expressions on Frisk’s and Alphys’s faces tell you they feel the same way.

A vine shoots out from within the dark, embracing Frisk’s friends with disgust- if that is possible. Turns out, listening to Flowey’s tragic background story didn’t change anything much- and certainly didn’t change anything about Flowey’s view of existence and such.

“Why are you doing this?!” Frisk asks, tears adorning their dark eyes as the weed goes on and on about how he stole the human SOULs, and how he will become all powerful.

It’s just a game to him.

Frisk is just his plaything.

You can’t believe you let yourself get fooled once again by your hopes that people can be good. You grit your teeth.

With the others safely tied up, Flowey turns his attention to Frisk, cornering them; the manic grin is back on his face as he readies his attack.

A ring of fire prevents him from hurting them.

“Toriel’s love gives you hope, your HP increased.” you state, eyes wide.

Flowey tries again, a wall of bones and spears stops him this time.

“Papyrus’s and Undyne’s trust gives you hope, your HP increased.” you say with a small smile. Sans’s assuring words gives Frisk more hope as the weed attacks once more, only to be stopped by a wall of electricity and fire combined.

“Asgore’s and Alphys’s belief in your determination gives you hope, your HP increased.” you inform Frisk, sharing their tearful happiness despite you’re incapable of crying.

You can hear the hearts of everyone beating as one, helping Frisk, giving them hope, fueling their determination as Flowey looks around anxiously. Your companion looks at you in a way that says, “See? That’s why I showed them mercy. They are all worth it, they are my friends!”

“Unbelievable!” Flowey exclaims, as if he’s just read your thoughts. He looks flabbergasted for a brief moment, his mouth curved in a frown.

Then he absorbs the SOULs.


End file.
